In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 517: The Journey into Schiller's Past (1)

As Stark and Steve entered the asylum, the corridor was pitch-black, with only one door ajar, casting light onto the opposite wall, like a blue-hued painting.

Slowing their pace, the two gradually approached, arriving at the doorway. Steve leaned against the wall, peering inside. The hospital room was small, with nothing hidden from view, yet it was empty. Or rather, not empty—inside was not a person, but a god with the head of a skeleton hawk.

Khonshu sat at the edge of the bed, holding a wooden staff. Stark recognized him and stepped forward, angrily questioning, “Khonshu??? What are you doing here?! Have you been controlling Schiller?! Where is he now?!”

Seeing them enter, Khonshu’s expression turned peculiar. Stark felt like he might be imagining things; he couldn’t believe he was reading a sense of grievance from a skeleton’s avian face.

But soon, Khonshu’s actions confirmed that it wasn’t his imagination. Khonshu let out a deep sigh, laden with complex emotions—sorrow, worry, and deep regret.

Just as Steve walked in, it wasn’t the oddly-looking Khonshu that caught his attention, but the wooden staff he held, resembling a clothesline pole. Besides the staff, various rings and luminous beads were scattered on the floor. Steve spun around, utterly puzzled by the scene. He finally decided to speak up, “Um, hello there, eagle? Are you an eagle? What are you doing here? What’s happening? Have you seen Schiller?”

Upon hearing Steve’s words, Khonshu sighed once more, placing the bald wooden staff aside. He glanced around the hospital room, then said, “You must be Schiller’s friends, right? Since you’ve found your way here, you must have some understanding of the dream world.”

“Correct, in fact, we’ve been here long before you arrived.” Stark squinted and said, “However, we haven’t been in this particular room. Which personality of Schiller resides here?”

Khonshu sighed deeply again, then slowly spoke, “The most combative one.”

He proceeded to recount to Stark and Steve how he had encountered Schiller and ended up here. After narrating everything, he added, “As one of the Triad of Theban Gods, I don’t actually reside in the celestial realm. This traces back to a schism that occurred during a war.”

“The relationships among the Egyptian Gods are intricate. The conflicts between nature gods and animal gods are the most intense. When the war began, I wasn’t in the celestial realm. But after the war’s end, I was informed that I could no longer return to my former home.”

“Many gods like me faced the same situation, including Anubis, who is quite famous in your human world. His situation is similar to mine. He isn’t an innocent animal god, yet because of his animal-like appearance, he was expelled.”

“Why would there be disputes between animal gods and nature gods?” Steve asked with confusion. “You all belong to the same pantheon, so your familial relationships should be close, like those in Asgard.”

Khonshu shook his skeletal hawk head and said, “Animal gods are more similar to your humanity. They experience emotions, desires, and struggles for survival, much like humans. However, the nature gods, born of nature and occupying a divine position in nature, are more like natural phenomena—cold, arrogant, and capricious.”

“I was once furious at their actions. When I mentioned this story to Schiller, he said he had a plan to help the animal gods reclaim the celestial realm…”

“At first, I wasn’t interested because I knew that I and other animal gods didn’t want to initiate a war. But later, I wavered. If there was a chance to seek revenge against those arrogant nature gods, I was willing to exert some power…”

“So, he went to challenge those nature gods by himself?” Stark widened his eyes and drew a cross over his chest, saying, “God help them.”

“Challenge?” Khonshu touched his avian beak, moved his mandible up and down, making a clacking sound. Stark even saw a hint of complexity in his face again, and he heard Khonshu say, “The term ‘challenge’ isn’t entirely accurate…”

“Wait, if you weren’t controlling him, why did he seem so…” Steve pursed his lips, recalling Schiller’s cold demeanor in battle, especially the moment when Schiller drove a blade into Baron Zemo’s throat, blood splattering.

Khonshu sighed deeply once more, taking out the wooden staff and holding it before himself. Both Stark and Steve fixed their gaze on the staff. Khonshu’s tone carried a touch of sorrow as he said, “This is my scepter.”

“Uh… it’s quite antique, with a primitive beauty,” Steve pondered for a moment before commenting.

“But it wasn’t always like this.”

Hearing Khonshu’s words, Stark lowered his head and glanced at the scattered components on the ground. He suddenly wore a strange expression, suppressing laughter. Steve seemed to have thought of something as well. Before they could start chuckling, Khonshu spoke up on his own:

“As the representative of the ever-changing moon phases, I choose chaotic and intricate believers’ souls as my proxies. When Schiller sought me out, I had never encountered such a chaotic soul. Hence, I chose him…”

“In the past, when I granted power to Moon Knight, I would enhance the most chaotic part of their souls. The result…”

Khonshu’s massive avian beak clacked once again, and Stark and Steve remembered the stark contrast between Schiller now and before. They both looked at Khonshu with sympathetic eyes

Stark began to wander around the hospital room, while Steve said, “Alright, can you take us to him then? We need to confirm if he’s still alive…”

Khonshu also stood up, clutching his now-bald scepter. Stark, however, interrupted, “Hold on, I need to investigate here.”

As he rifled through a nearby cabinet, he said to Steve, “Don’t forget what we saw earlier. Schiller might have serious psychological issues; we can’t just leave it be. We need to gather more clues…”

With a clang, Stark forcefully pulled open an old cabinet door. In that moment, a bunch of stuff clattered to the ground…

Stark stared at the heap of objects, perplexed. They were all peculiar items—sharp-edged plates, old-fashioned wooden pencils, misshapen spoons, wires, ropes, and even two plastic toy ducks.

Moreover, all these items were stained with blood.

Steve walked over, crouching down and using his finger to shift the items around. Hesitatingly, he said, “I remember you mentioned before that everything in the dream might represent a memory.”

“If a bloodstain on the carpet represents a tragic incident, then these many items here…”

As Steve spoke, both he and Stark fell silent. Stark lowered his head and said, “I’ve read in psychology books that there’s a type of person in this world called a ‘genius psychopath.'”

Steve looked at him, and Stark continued to focus on the pile of items as he said, “There’s also a broader term for it, called ‘high-functioning antisocial personality.'”

“If I’m not mistaken, each of these items here represents a murder he committed.” Steve picked up one of the pencils and examined the bloodstains on it. He continued, “Like this…”

He held the pencil in a stabbing grip, then lifted his head, positioning the pencil against his own neck, saying, “Stabbing in, pulling out—this would leave behind such bloodstains. And for a fatal strike, it’s best to directly pierce the trachea…”

“And this…” Steve picked up what seemed to be a broken piece of a plate. It had a triangular shape, one corner rounded like a typical plate, while the other two corners were sharp and pointed.

Steve pinched the rounded corner and said, “If it were me, just holding it like this would be enough to bring someone to their death. But if there wasn’t enough strength, you could attach a handle to it, and this pencil would work nicely.”

As he spoke, he completely shifted away the group of items, pointing at each one and saying, “It’s evident he was constantly exploring techniques for murder. Maybe at the beginning, his power and skills weren’t enough, so he chose the most efficient and lethal option—the wire. Just find the right point to apply force, grip from behind, and the target would have difficulty escaping.”

“After that, he started using sharp tools, metal objects with cutting edges. It didn’t require much strength, yet could inflict severe harm on a person…”

“And then…” Steve discarded the item in his hand, stood up, lowered his gaze, and looked at the ground. He said, “Perhaps you’re right. He truly is a genius serial killer. He became a professional assassin after just a few murders, and maybe even more than that…”

Stark reached out, picking out items that didn’t seem like weapons from the pile, such as the two rubber toy ducks, a half of a picture frame, a small box that seemed to contain jewelry, and various other odd objects.

“He became dissatisfied with doing things himself and started using the environment and props to create accidents…” Stark continued Steve’s train of thought, “Maybe after he explored the methods of perfect murder, he delved into the criminal paths outlined in those psychology books…”

“No…” Steve refuted him, saying, “But based on what we see now, Schiller’s state doesn’t quite match what you describe as ‘criminals.’ Besides, if he has truly become a ‘criminal,’ then that third, fourth, or even hundredth personality can’t all have originated from these kinds of fragmented actions, right?”

“To fully dissect a person’s personality and inner world is incredibly challenging, especially for someone like Schiller, whose inner world is excessively complex.” Stark surveyed the room, saying, “All of this is speculative based on existing clues, and that too, only within the dream.”

“Anyway, our priority is to find Schiller first and then understand his intentions.”

Simultaneously, Stark and Steve turned their heads to Khonshu. Before they could ask, Khonshu spoke, “When he told me about this plan, he didn’t reveal everything, but he kept asking me about the details regarding how gods in the Egyptian pantheon can enable their believers to resurrect…”

Stark keenly caught a specific word in Khonshu’s sentence and asked, “Resurrect? You can make people resurrect?”

Khonshu sighed and said, “In a certain sense, yes. But let’s start with the judgments that believers undergo after death…”

“The key… the key lies in the judgments believers face after death!” Osiris, hanging from a coconut tree and gasping for breath, declared.

He lowered his head, looking at the various Schillers surrounding him, and said in despair, “Resurrection through judgment! Or rather, if you pass judgment, you won’t be accepted by Death…”

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